


Sugar

by Tom_Tomorrow



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Ambiguous Illness, Angst, Big Sister Alex Danvers, Established Alex Danvers/Maggie Sawyer, F/F, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Hypoglycemia, Kara Danvers Needs a Hug, Protective Maggie Sawyer, Red Hood Gang, Sick Kara Danvers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:48:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23991064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tom_Tomorrow/pseuds/Tom_Tomorrow
Summary: "Whoa, and I thought we looked like crap."Maggie turns, mimicking his visor gesture as she gazes past swirling sirens and yellow police tape to see what he’s pointing at.And oh...She has a pretty good idea.Across the way, Maggie sees Supergirl leaning wilted against the wall of the Baker Hugh Skyscraper, hands hitched over her head, eyes squeezed shut as she raked in air with such a laborious effort that the detective recognizes the trouble she’s having from yards away and she realizes after a moment the blonde was shaking, vibrating almost.Well that wasn’t good. \\///llAnother day. Another world ending event.And another hero who doesn't know when to take a break.
Relationships: Alex Danvers & Kara Danvers, Alex Danvers/Maggie Sawyer, Kara Danvers & Maggie Sawyer
Comments: 16
Kudos: 298





	Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> For the purposes of this fic, Supergirl doesn't use comms.

“Whoa…” Davidson murmurs, looking somewhere past the detective as he uses the back of his hand to form a makeshift visor under the glaring sun . “And I thought we looked like shit.”

Maggie really only hears the tail end of what her partner says as he trails her, helping her lead another handcuffed, hulking Almeracian past the swirling lights of several other squad cars, officers, and murmuring crowds to sit him down with the twenty or so others that waited for extradition.

Without his weapon, the fight seems to have left him, but the detective had learned from several preceding experiences not to leave a goddamn thing to chance, not with his affiliation. 

What has been happening over the last few days can only be comparable to what the Daxamite invasion was just months earlier and even that was an unfortunate, nauseating comparison to even be making so soon after what she was sure was a once in a lifetime occurrence. Somehow made even worse by knowing the root cause wasn’t even an otherworldly invasion, but that the terror that had been setting alight to National City for almost four days now, was entirely homegrown.

The Red Hood Gang wasn’t a new organization, they had wreaked havoc on Gotham City in the late eighties up until the turn of the century when Batman rose to prevalence and did a spectacular job of reining them in. Maggie had always kind of assumed they’d fizzled out over the years because of their sheer inability to keep up with the Gotham City hero and aside from the occasional cliff notes in research or a reference in a cold case file, she hadn’t even heard so much as a whisper of the neoterroistic group in years. But apparently, they’d only used that time to move locations, garner an underground cult following, and find someone to bankroll this clusterfuck of a situation. 

By now the property damage has to be in the hundreds of millions and Maggie doesn’t even want to think of the death toll.

It’s all hands on deck, a joint effort between NCPD, SWAT, the DEO, and of course, Supergirl, just to barely reign it in.

She and Alex had barely seen each other over the last three days, busy trying to put out fire after fire, and they practically lived together.

“Hey, speak for yourself.”

She grumbles, only half annoyed, because there is some truth to his words. 

Maggie can feel the bags under her eyes from the infrequent two hour naps that she’d been qualifying as sleep as she signs off her signature for the newest arrestee on the crisis point clipboard, and Jesus Christ, it’s the fifty seventh person for just this location alone. 

According to police chatter, there were eight currently active locations across the burgeoning metropolis that were currently in the process of being contained, and it was lower than the eleven yesterday, and the fifteen the day before that, but it was still too high, because resources are still being stretched entirely too thin. 

“No, seriously… look.”

Davidson says again, pointing somewhere vaguely behind her, when they finish the transfer.

Maggie turns, mimicking his visor gesture as she gazes past swirling sirens and yellow police tape to see what he’s pointing at. 

And oh...

She has a pretty good idea.

Across the way, Maggie sees Supergirl leaning wilted against the wall of the Baker Hugh Skyscraper. The blonde’s hands hitched over her head, eyes squeezed shut as she raked in air with such a laborious effort that the detective recognizes the trouble she’s having from yards away and she realizes after a moment the blonde was shaking, vibrating almost.

Well that wasn’t good.

She’d known Kara had been on scene for a while now, had heard it come through on her comms as she and the other officers continued to secure the area, and though Maggie hadn’t encountered her directly, the blonde had clearly done a lot of damage, if the pile of broken, mutilated assault weapons, huddled gang members, and wide-eyed hostages are anything to go by.

But Davidson is right, she doesn’t look great. 

Maggie pivots in a fluid movement, not even bothering to give Davidson an explanation as he jumps to follow her through the chaos, and as they get closer she sees Captain Osman approaching the caped hero too, the same concern on his face. 

“-you okay, Supergirl?”

The detective hears her superior ask as they approach, and up close, with the details sharper, whatever initial concern she had for Kara in the beginning, spirals into something deeper as her own two eyes cement the fact that something is terribly, terribly wrong. 

The caped hero is, in fact, shaking, trembling against the brick in small, violent tremors, her usual warm demeanor painted chalky white, golden hair dim and sticking into cowlicks to her forehead at the edges, because she’s sweating, and honestly, Maggie didn’t even know Kara could sweat.

Kara doesn’t answer. She doesn’t even open her eyes as another shaky inhalation lifts her hunched shoulders lightly, reeking of charcoal, sweat, and gunpowder as the silence stretches into something that doesn’t exactly do wonders for the nerves in the detective's stomach as she and Davidson slow to a stop.

“Supergirl, are you good?”

Maggie asks after Osman, aiming for something calm and placatory, but unsure of how it lands because Kara doesn’t even acknowledge her either.

She uses the moment to look her over, but there is no green, no blood either, and there goes Maggie’s two vague ideas of what could likely be wrong. 

“Supergi-”

She doesn’t even make it through the superhero moniker before she’s interrupted.

“M’fine. J-just got… ah… a little tired.”

Kara mumbles slowly through clenched teeth, but Maggie has seen Kara tired before, hell she has seen Kara with blown out powers before, and this is not that.

Davidson and Osman are exchanging looks that echo the varying degrees of trepidation, and it's clear that they’re not keen on accepting that answer either.

“Yeah? Well, I’d feel a little better about that if you’d open your eyes for us.”

Maggie continues unperturbed and purposely because around her she can hear the chaos of the situation continuing harsh and unsteady: unruly gang members swearing, hostages crying, crowds of civilians asking questions no one answers, transfers being completed, and more pointedly, news helicopter blades slicing through air above them. 

The media were like vultures and she knows if they don’t get a handle on this now, whatever the heck this is would be in the headlines for the next two weeks. 

Kara doesn't say anything, trembling again, but eventually she cracks her eyes open just enough that Maggie knows they’re open, and those half-lidded cobalt eyes have a weird quality to them, not even looking at the detective, instead gazing somewhere behind her. 

Not distant. Not dazed, really. But glazed, sick, almost. 

So, no. Maggie doesn’t feel better about this at all. 

“Supergirl, why don’t you sit down?”

She says slowly, searching still for something that supports that Kara is, indeed, just tired like the rest of them, but the blonde’s eyes are shut again, like slits stark against her chalky, pale features, arms still hosted behind her head as she shakes it.

“N-no… Gotta go to Chegg point t-three, officer.”

Kara stutters out sluggishly, like she’s talking around a sleeve of saltine crackers, crinkling her eyebrows together as she repeats a soundbite of information that clearly sounds like something she’s been saying for the last few days, but there are several things wrong with what she just said.

First of all, this was checkpoint three, even if Kara spectacularly fucked up stating its name. 

Second, Kara had never, ever referred to Maggie as an officer, even when they’d first met and the distinction hadn’t been clear.

And lastly, there was no way in hell, the detective was letting the blonde take off flying in this state. 

The detective reaches out to touch the edge of the caped hero’s elbow to stop her from moving any further when she recognizes Kara’s slow and awkward attempt to palm away from the brick, and finds that she isn’t overcome by a wave of billowing heat when she does so. 

That for once in her life, Kara isn’t running warm, in fact, she’s clammy, almost cool.

“No, Supergirl, I really think we should sit down.”

Maggie repeats evenly and this time she can’t entirely stifle the concern that seeps out around her words.

“No… I-I can hear’em… I gotta help.”

The blonde continues as she sways forward anyway, and Maggie looks to the left at Davidson and Osman, needing a lifeline when her boots begin sliding against pavement from the sudden pressure, a stark reminder that Kara is Supergirl for a reason. 

Quickly, Davidson slides to her aid, and his six-foot-four, linebacker frame does better than she did at pushing Kara back, so she’s leaning against the wall again, but it’s clear he’s putting in significant effort to do so.

“Ah… Detective Sawyer is right, Supergirl, NCPD has a handle on Checkpoint Three and according to radio chatter other checkpoints are being secured as we speak. It’s okay to take a break.”

Osman lies, but his confident, authoritative tone must make it somewhat believable because the caped hero doesn't protest again, instead she says...

“Maggie?”

Confused, as she picks out the single identifier in Osman’s order, dragging the word out much longer than it needs to.

The detective feels herself smiling, even when there’s no real reason to be as she tries to offer some semblance of reassurance because Kara is clearly drifting, and that wasn’t good. 

None of this was good.

“Yeah, it’s me. Now let’s sit down okay?”

Maggie asks again, for the third time, and it must be the charm because this time Kara finally listens, falling into something of a stunned silence as she relinquishes her effort to pull away from the wall. 

“Hey, look at me… Look at me. Are you hurt? If we move somewhere else, are you gonna be good?”

Maggie murmurs scrutinizing the blonde again until she opens those glazed eyes of hers, but aside from those painfully visible tremors, no visible injury pops up, even when she can’t shake the disturbing familiarity from the way she’s acting. 

“J-juss… tired.”

Kara echoes miserably, a hand snaking up to tug at the collar of her uniform, and it really isn’t an answer to the question that was asked, but the wheels turn in the detective’s head anyway. 

“We’re going to keep this as quiet as possible, we don’t need any fanfare.” Osman says dubiously, as Davidson and the detective balance a not necessarily boneless Supergirl between them, but one who is holding none of the usual bravado in her stance. “Bring her around to the alley, I’ll get some patrol to set up a blockade.”

“I… I c-can walk.”

Kara croaks in a slur of a whisper, already protesting, even as she sinks back into the brick again, despite their grip, shaky and unsure and Maggie doesn’t think she’s seen the blonde this agitated since she’d been hit with that Elgoog ray. 

The detective pauses, gazing toward the alley entrance. 

It isn’t far, but the blonde is barely standing on her own two feet, and the two scenarios Maggie’s envisioning in her mind don’t have particularly good outcomes, because she doesn’t want Kara hurt, but she’s not keen on sacrificing Davidson or Osman to make sure that doesn’t happen.

So, even when it fights against her very instinct, she decides to let Kara prove she can walk alone as she and Davidson flank her sides. 

The journey is clunky and awkward, stretching what should have been moments into a long block of time, and she’s stumbling so much that Maggie wonders how she even got so far with the help she did give on scene.

Once the trio gets within three paces inside of the alley the blonde collapses into something vaguely reminiscent of a sitting position, as she buries her head into her knees, bringing a trembling hand up to tug at the collar of her uniform once more. 

Maggie stares down at the younger woman for only a second, as the burgeoning familiarity of the situation lights her head on fire, before turning to Davidson to ask the question.

“Already calling.”

He says, bringing his phone to his ear as he steps out of the alley way and then it’s just the two of them, and Kara looks impossibly small hunched in a fetal position, red cape billowing out behind her.

“So you said you were tired, huh? There a reason for that?”

Maggie is painfully aware as she crouches down beside the trembling blonde that no one has been sleeping at any considerable level that would seem normal during a crisis such as this, especially not Supergirl, who, even normally, worked extreme hours. And it is very likely that Kara had been pulling all nighters as the Red Hood Gang ran the city amok, so even when another feeling nags at her, she decides it’s okay to entertain the option. 

“I can’t… c-can’t stop it.”

Kara whispers miserably into her knees.

“Can’t stop what?”

“My… My heart… Issa beatin too fast.”

She slurs into the air and Maggie feels another prickle of familiarity flicker up with the needles that stab at her heart. 

And suddenly it clicks, her consciousness dredging up a memory from years and years ago, when she was eight in Blue Springs watching her aunt and uncle fret over her older cousin who had been exhibiting the same symptoms.

“Hey… I need you to look at me, okay Kara? Look at me.”

The sudden fatigue.

Pale skin.

Sweating.

Confusion.

Rapid heart rate. 

Restlessness.

How she’s slurring her words. 

And suddenly things start making a little more sense.

“Kara, when was the last time you ate something?”

Kara’s voracious appetite was something of legend.

There was often something, anything edible in the blonde’s hands at any point of time and the caped hero had the uncanny ability to put down enough food for five people in a single sitting and still have room for desert.

It had been weird when Alex had invited Kara over for dinner that first time, an event that started with Maggie staring wide eyed as the blonde inhaled an entire plate of potstickers in short minutes and ended with her girlfriend elbowing her sister into submission until she ate at something of a normal pace.

High metabolism, Alex had said then.

That truth had made a lot more sense, when she figured out that Kara and Supergirl were one in the same, but even now it was a slight mix between awe and horror whenever she saw the blonde put away two days worth in food in one sitting.

And now Kara says nothing.

Which really is an answer in itself.

“Hey, I need an answer, Little Danvers. When was the last time you ate?”

Maggie asks again, more hurriedly this time, poking at the blonde roughly trying to get her to look up again, and moments she’d never really put a lot of thought in before flash forward to stain themselves against the forefront of her mind.

Of how light headed Kara had been after the Daxamite Invasion.

Of the amount of water Kara seemed to be chugging at any given moment.

Of Alex, on more than one occasion,questioning if she’d eaten or not in passing, too many times to just be innocent. 

And then, Maggie had always kind of chalked up to the super hero lifestyle and the exhaustion that often could come with it.

It had never occurred to her before this, that the reasoning could have been compounded by something else entirely. 

Next to her, Kara slurs something unintelligbly into her knees, and holy fuck, the living furnance of a blonde had never been so cold before.

“What?”

Maggie echoes when she can’t decipher the words that get trapped into the fiber of the super suit.

A beat passes and just when the detective is about to ask again, the blonde detaches her trembling hand from the collar of her uniform, without looking up, and shakily holds up three fingers.

Her heart drops like a stone.

“Those three fingers better mean hours not days.”

She says slowly, stifling the urge to recoil, because there’s a vague, almost disgustingly sure feeling that that is exactly what the blonde means sweeping over, harsh and thick, until the detective can’t even swallow, much less think.

Kara’s shoulders hitch miserably as she rakes in another trembling breath and her fingers curl back in on themselves as she goes back to tugging at the collar of her shirt. 

And again, the silence is more telling than words could ever be. 

“Jesus Christ, Kara! You can’t just not eat for three days! Are you insane!”

Maggie sputters exasperated and this time she does recoil, pulling away from the blonde, if only for a second, to rub at her temples in frustration. Because goddamn the people in her life, willing to run themselves into the ground if it meant helping someone, anyone, in this godforsaken city.

“T-there was… fire and… and people were hurt…. Are h-hurt and screamin… and I… I... the city was on f-fire and everything's f-fallin apart and I-I c-can’t juss not help’em…. And there was no time... I gotta help em. I gotta-”

Kara slurs in a jumble of words, trying to justify why and even sitting, she’s listing a little, leaning too far right, and Maggie winces as she reaches out again to stabilize her, whatever misplaced anger wisping away into the air.

“Look. I know you want to help, but you can’t help when you’re running on empty, okay? So look at me, Kara, please.”

Maggie interrupts, using her other hand to palm jacket pockets for the protein bar she’d gotten from the vending machine earlier that day.

It won’t be much, especially for someone who ate as much as Kara, but it would have to do until Alex and the DEO got here.

Kara finds the power somewhere within her to listen, shifting so her chin rests on her knees, and those normally sharp, cobalt eyes are hooded over, almost glazed, like she’s somewhere else entirely. 

“Here. I want you to eat this, it isn’t much, but take it slow okay?”

She says, tearing open the foil with the edge of her teeth, before offering it to the blonde.

And evidently Kara’s only half listening to what the detective says because she doesn’t even blink as she practically swallows the thing whole.

Maggie stifles a sigh.

“I said take it slo-”

She’s interrupted when the blonde suddenly blanches, lurching away from the detective’s grasp onto her hands and knees as she empties what little stomach contents she did have onto the pavement in front of her.

Maggie jumps to hold her hair back, but the episode of nausea is already over before it even really begins, when she’s already working with pretty much nothing.

“Rao…. R-rao… Rao… I gotta- I gotta go… I gotta-”

Kara garbles loosely when she finishes, trying to find purchase beneath her to stand up.

And nope. No way in hell. Nope.

“No, you need to sit down!”

Maggie orders, futilely pressing down against the blonde’s shoulders, and out of the corner of her vision Davidson appears, unspoken questions in his eyes as he mouths an ETA that seems entirely too long. 

“Can you grab a water bottle? Or three?”

She asks over Kara’s incoherent mumbling and her partner nods, shooting one last lingering look at the caped hero on the ground before he disappears again. 

“You’re not going to help like this, so you need to stay here. It’s not a suggestion, Kara. You’re staying here until Alex and the others get here so you can get some help.”

But it’s like talking to a wall because Kara is clearly delirious.

And man she’s going to enjoy having a talk with whoever was running the scene she was on before this and the one before that because more than half of this city just loved the caped hero for granted and what Maggie is looking at now clearly didn’t just start on this one.

“M’ j-just… tired.” 

Kara echoes weakly, arms shaking as they continue to balance her weight. 

“Come on, let’s sit back down.”

Maggie urges, clenching her teeth, as she guides the blonde back into a sitting position. 

It takes more time than what she would have liked, but by the time she’s done, Davidson is back, and this time he has company.

Alex.

Short, curly hair mussed.

Dark, warm eyes framed with their own evidence of exhaustion.

Still in her own combat gear, service weapon in its holster, as she white knuckles the medical bag in her hands. 

And behind her, Vasquez lingers in the periphery speaking with Captain Osman as they enforce the blockade.

Her girlfriend pauses briefly, flashing the detective a quick, tired smile, then her eyes are flickering over to her sister, as she crosses the short distance quietly, softly, quickly kneeling down next to them. 

“Hey… Hey, I heard you weren’t doing too great.”

Alex starts, soft and assuring in a tone reserved only for her sister, those tired, clinical eyes continuing to assess as she waits for an answer, but Kara barely acknowledges her as she continues to whisper incoherently into her knees.

“She’s delirious, Lex. Said she hasn’t eaten anything in almost three days and isn’t keeping down anything either.”

Maggie recaps, when her girlfriend turns to her, the question in her eyes. 

Alex’s eyes narrow with something undecipherable, but then she’s nodding, jaw clenching as she moves to open the medical bag.

“I need you to talk to me or Mags, Kara, not to yourself.”

Alex says easily, like they’re talking about the weather, as she starts taking stuff out the bag.

A green tipped syringe, IV tubing, rubbing alcohol, a bag of murky, clear liquid.

All taken out with such deliberateness that it’s apparent she’s done this before.

And Maggie doesn’t know how to feel about that. 

“Come on... look at me.”

Alex insists, moving a hand up to Kara’s head, running her hand over sweaty blonde hair, down to the crux of her chin, lifting it to make her sister look up, and Kara doesn't resist, boneless, as half-lidded eyes dance lazily around the alley walls, clearly out of it.

“I thought we talked about this, huh? That we have to take breaks, that pushing this hard isn’t good, remember?” 

She says softly, but it’s clear it’s going through one ear and out the other, and Alex must realize it too because she’s going back to her supplies, jaw clenching so hard that Maggie can see the tension in her forehead as she unscrews the bottle of alcohol. 

“I…. I don’t like needles.”

Kara mumbles deliriously, coming into focus just enough to realize what’s happening, as her sister makes quick work of the caped hero’s sleeve, rubbing at the blonde’s freshly exposed skin with rubbing alcohol, tearing open a syringe with the edge of her teeth.

“I know. I don’t like needles either, but we gotta get you thinking straight and this will help, so hold still.”

Alex soothes, pulling at Kara’s arm when she tries to flinch away from the needle, mostly stern, but the underlying brittle concern echoes loudly in the detective’s ears. And when the syringe slides in, the veins in Kara’s forearm flicker a spiderly green as it tracks its way up her forearm. 

“I gotta… I g-gotta go… I g-g-gotta go, Lexie, I gotta h-help.”

Kara mumbles as the milky contents of the bag threads itself up the tubing, disappearing into her arm, as Alex secures it.

“Wow, Lexie’s a throwback, huh? Was starting to think you didn’t recognize me, for a second there.” 

Alex murmurs gently, moving to sweep some of her sister’s sweaty hair away from her face.

“And no, we’ve got it handled, okay? NCPD, DEO, SWAT, you name it. So you don’t have to go anywhere right now. You get to sit tight with us, understand?”

She continues, but Kara doesn’t answer, hunched over and miserable, gazing feverishly, wide-eyed and owlish up at her sister, but she doesn’t try to argue, so Maggie will take that as a win.

“I… is she diabetic?”

The detective asks finally after long moments pass by and she’s convinced that Kara isn’t going to keel over, still thinking of her cousin from all those years ago.

“M’not.”

Kara warbles loosely, head back on her knees.

“You are.” Alex says squeezing her sister’s shoulder, then to Maggie. “She is. Kind of. Kryptonians expend almost six times that of any average human, but our food is kinda different from theirs, so they digest it differently, but it doesn’t really absorb the way it’s supposed too. It causes a lot of problems and it’s why she’s always eating all the time and that’s just to stay at baseline. When they don’t reach that baseline or when they use poor decision making skills and try to run on empty, it mimics the low blood sugar effect, but cranks it up to eleven. It’s dangerous. Lethal even.”

Alex mumbles and her voice shakes as she moves to smooth out the tension in her temple. 

“You should have seen Clark after Zod. They practically had to hook him up to a ventilator.”

Her girlfriend laughs, but it’s exasperated and holds none of the mirth.

Maggie reaches out and rests her hand on Alex’s knee, soothing the tension there and her girlfriend smiles sadly, covering the detective’s hand with her own. 

“I… b-but they’re screaming… Alex, they’re s-still screaming… I- I can hear em, I can’t juss not help...”

Kara warbles loosely, into the air, gesturing up at her ears, and Maggie’s heart twists.

Was her super hearing permanent?

Was she doomed to listen to everything that came crashing down in this city, this world, this planet?

Maggie isn’t sure she wants the answer to that.

“I know…. I know… But you can’t help everybody, Kara, sometimes you have to help yourself first.”

Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you thought?
> 
> Kara's not really diabetic, but she get's hypoglycemic a lot if that made sense.
> 
> Fun fact: I'm firmly onboard the idea that Kara has a hero complex and a 110% needs therapy. 
> 
> Not so fun fact: Maggie's cousin is based off an experience I had with a family member who has Type 1 Diabetes. It sucks sometimes.


End file.
